


Case File #0141123

by ohnoitsval



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bugs & Insects, Emetophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Stabbing, Vomit, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoitsval/pseuds/ohnoitsval
Summary: Statement of Irina Abdulov, regarding strange events that happened during the summer of 2013.
Kudos: 2





	Case File #0141123

August 24, 2013, case file #0141123

Summary: Statement of Irina Abdulov, regarding strange events that happened during the summer of 2013.

[CLICK]

ARCHIVIST

Statement of Irina Abdulov, regarding strange events which happened during a summer night. Original statement given August 24th, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

First of all, I need to say that, even though it wasn’t long ago, my memory isn’t the best. I apologize if I get details or the time wrong. Even though this has nothing to do with what happened, I want to make clear that I’m not from here. If you can’t tell from my name, I’m russian. I was born and raised there, I only moved to England about 5 years ago, when I was eleven. That might seem like a lot and you would assume that I know my way around everywhere here, but I really don’t. I barely go outside, and when I do, either my parents drive me or I go with the metro. I only know my way on foot to school, to the grocery store and to a small path in the forest. That’s pretty much it. 

Now, with the incident. That’s the only way I can describe what happened. Even though I’m the biggest believer in the paranormal and that stuff, I still am not sure if it really happened or if I was dreaming or… I don’t know. I’m sorry for deeply wasting all of your time with this if it turns out it  _isn’t_ real. 

It was a Tuesday when it happened. I don’t remember much of the rest of the day. I went to school and it was boring. I couldn’t pay attention, as always, though thankfully my best friend was there. I’ve heard you need full names for these “statements”, so my best friend’s full name is Anastasia Woodward, if that helps with anything. After that, I went straight to my home, and my room. I listened to music and painted all afternoon. I think I called Anastasia after that. I don’t remember what we talked about, it couldn’t have been important.

And then, around 6pm, my mom came home. She’d been working. I didn’t see her come home, but I assumed she must be in a bad mood, because all I heard when she arrived was a big sigh and the door slamming. I sighed as well, and got ready to get yelled at. She always does that when she’s in a bad mood. I hesitantly opened my bedroom door, and peeked out enough for my mom to see me. We greeted each other, and then she mumbled something angrily. I asked her what she had said, because I couldn’t make it out. She looked at me with a gaze that let me know she was in a bad mood. She asked me if I had cleaned or ate anything, and I said no to both. I had been in my room all day, and I wasn’t hungry yet, I had eaten something at school (though I don’t exactly remember what it was). I don’t know why I didn’t lie. For context, my mom’s weirdly really strict about my eating. She started passive aggressively telling me I should eat more and that it wasn’t okay, which led to her yelling at me and asking “why I was this way”, because I talked back to her quite a bit. We both had had a really bad week, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I waited for her to stop yelling until I could go to my room and cry. I don’t know exactly for how long I cried, but it was about 8pm when I finally calmed down. 

I didn’t feel sad or victimized anymore, or at least at that point I didn’t, I was angry and sick of having to live with her. I knew my mom was shut in her room, and probably already sleeping, so I decided to go outside, or I guess, sneak out. Before any of you get mad at me, or tell my parents, I wasn’t gonna do anything bad. I, in my 16 years of life, haven’t smoked or drunk or done anything like that and I wasn’t going to just because I was really upset. So I got ready; I wore a black T-shirt, grey mom jeans, Doc Martens and a blue flannel. The summer so far had not been too bad, and it was already a bit cool outside, so I thought that was okay. I brought my phones and headphones, to listen to music and hopefully take my mind off things. So I made my way to the forest. 

I’m sure I need context for this, and it's going to sound weird, but you probably wouldn't understand otherwise. Since I was a kid, like my first memory of being aware of this was when I was around 6 or 7, I always felt this… presence. It's hard to explain. It's not necessarily bad, I always just feel like there was someone behind my back. I ignore it most of the time but it gets pretty hard when I'm scared or alone. And when I had just arrived in the forest, like almost instantly, it felt **so** **.** Again, most of the time I'm able to brush it off and say it's whatever I'm used to it, you know? But it seriously felt like there was someone, no, some  _thing_ , right behind me. I turned my head around and stopped. There was nothing. In fact, there was nobody there. I had expected at least some elderly couple taking a walk or something like that, but I was utterly alone. This didn't raise any huge red flags to me immediately, I get creeped out really easily, so I tried to brush it off and made my music even louder.

But still, this presence behind me somehow grew stronger, and I heard things like branches breaking or animals moving. I was still trying to not instantly freak out, but then my music stopped playing. I checked my phone and it said “no service”. I stopped and sighed. This had to be some sort of bad joke. I, again, tried to keep calm and kept walking, but now with no distractions and somehow even more aware of every small sound. I don’t know how long I had been walking, since the sun had already set when I went in the forest and I was so angry and stupid I didn’t bother to check my phone. Not for long though. After a while, I got scared I was going to veer off the path and get lost. I took out my phone and used the torch setting, but I didn’t focus on the time. It might have been around 9? I really have no idea. That didn’t help much, though. My phone was pretty old and crappy and I could only see about a foot ahead with the torch. 

The sounds and presence were only getting worse. It was so weird too, because as far as I knew, there wasn't any wildlife there. I was getting  _really_ scared. I was waiting at every corner and tree for something to jump out and attack me. It sounds dumb, but I was hoping it was just some old creep following me. Even that was better than what really happened. My fear only got worse by the minute. My hands and legs were shaking badly, and the temperature had seemed to drop. I could hear my heart beat loudly. 

I only saw this for a split second, but I was  _so_ sure of it. I don't think I'll forget it. While I was shakily stumbling through the forest, I looked to the side where the forest wasn't cleared by the unstable path and was full of bushes and aged, decrepit trees which let out a pungent smell. Through the hazy air and the weather-beaten trees I saw a tall, dark figure with shining eyes that stared right back at me. Instantly I knew that was what was following me. I didn't think twice and started running. I didn't know where I was going. I was panic-stricken and probably ran off the trail shortly after. I ran for what felt like hours, though it could have been minutes for all I know. I wasn't looking where I was going, and I could barely breathe through the thick, foul air. 

The next thing I knew was I was lying face down on the floor. I fell with a loud, thudding noise. I didn't really know what was happening, though I knew I couldn't move my arms or legs. I lay there for a few slow, drawn out moments and then I tried to get on my feet. I was in a small, creepy clearing, surrounded by more and more trees. I'd never been there before. I fell again, though I got on my knees and elbows, gasping for any air I could get. I was disoriented and felt light headed. My limbs felt heavy and exhausted. I felt like laying down and sleeping, but I knew I couldn't. 

All of a sudden, I began to hear a buzz. But not the type you hear from a single insect or fly that buzzes from a distance, the sound was so loud and overwhelming I could barely tell what was going on. It was heavy and deafening, it must have come from thousands of bugs. I was sure I was going to die. A cloud of flies, moths, bees and other insects came over me and from one moment to another they were all I could see. I could hear worms slowly and deliberately squirm towards me. 

I don’t know how to exactly explain it, but it was the worst feeling on earth. Hundreds or thousands of insects crawling on my body, purposely getting under my clothing and on my face and scalp.

I didn't even notice it, but I felt an insect in my throat. And then it wasn't one, but a dozen. And more and more. I tried to throw them up as much as I could, but every time I spat out an insect, it felt like there was one more. I was violently shaking and crying. The buzzing was so intense I couldn't tell. This went on for ages, and it got worse every moment. My “breathing” was hardly gasping now. 

I don't know how I didn't lose consciousness with the tiny amount of air I got, and the horrible quality of the air I did get. Maybe I did pass out, and I just couldn't tell. I had no idea how to tell what time it was anyways.

I did get close to losing my consciousness, I think. I was _so_ weak and I heard a small melody, or a song. I couldn't tell where it was coming from, or where it went but it felt familiar. Like I'd heard it before. Now I couldn't even remember how it went, the only thing I really remember was how soothing and beautiful it was. Maybe it was a lullaby. It made me calm down and lay down, getting ready to sleep. I couldn't though. The bugs barely bothered me anymore, even though I still felt every single one of them. 

But I didn't fall asleep. I couldn't. My heart and adrenaline were still going as fast as they never had, and I was… scared still, somehow. The small fear was in the back of my head, but it refused to disappear. It was like my survival instincts were refusing to give up and let me die. I thought, maybe, if I played dead the insects were going to go away. It was a dumb idea, to say the least, and I still can't believe I actually thought that. But it was the only chance I had. 

It worked. I don't know how or why, but it did. After I lay there for what I thought was probably hours, they slowly went away. But  _very_ slowly. They didn't just go away, they slowly stopped appearing. I had to wait. So much. It felt disgusting, because as there were less bugs, I could feel each one more. 

I threw up on myself.

After I lazily tried to get the horrifying insects off with broad, slow movements of my arms, I only realized what happened to me. I laid there and I broke down. By the time I stopped most of the bugs had gotten away, driven away by my wet, salty tears. I stood up shaking, wobbling my feet. 

I looked down at myself for the first time in the whole night, and to say I was a mess was greatly understating. My hair and clothes had holes, were cut and bitten by the worms. I had laid in the dirt for hours, so the color of my flannel was completely obscured, especially in the dark. Almost the whole top part of my flannel and shirt were wet and dirty, as a result of my tears and the dirt creating a very watery texture which could only be described as “mud”. I tried to breathe again, and the foul stench of the whole forest made me nauseous again. However, I was still running on huge amounts of adrenaline, so I didn't feel much exhaustion or pain yet. After probably about 15 minutes of standing there and trying to compose myself, I saw it again. 

The figure. 

This time I could clearly see it, and so could it see me. I knew this time I  _had_ to follow it, and I  _had_ to know what it was, no matter what the cost. I swiftly started running after it, with a surprising amount of strength left. It was faster than me, though, obviously. I kept trying to have an actual glance at it, but I could only see its back and legs. 

It looked oddly…  _human_ . But it wasn't right. It didn't feel like a person, the way it ran felt artificial and looked like something trying to make an impression of a human. After another long time of chasing after it, I know I had less and less strength yet. My breathing slowly turned into wheezing again, and my limbs went slower and felt heavier. And then, I think iit caught on to the fact that I couldn't run that fast anymore. And it went  _slower_ , having an uncanny similar rhythm as me. But, again, it wasn't right. It skipped sometimes as it took steps trying to run, and weirdly slowed and then went faster in an inhuman way. At this point, I obviously could tell it wasn't an actual human, but it only made me want to take a look at it even more. From its back I could tell it was wearing jeans and a red sweater, and it had something silver and sharp in its front pocket, and it almost fell out at one point. It also had short black curly hair. Noticing that disturbed me even more, as Anastasia's hair looked exactly like that. And now that I think back on it she was wearing a red sweater and jeans that day. It couldn't be a coincidence.   
  


After another eternity, I noticed we ran into a field, which was next to a road. I felt both relief and hopelessness at the same time; relief at the fact there is another sign of human life and hopelessness at the fact I had nowhere to hide now. As we were facing each other, I could finally take a not-horrible-glance at the figure staring back at me, even though we were in the pitch dark. Again, there's no easy way to describe it because you have to see it yourself to get it, but I'll try my best. It looked like an alien’s vague idea of a human would look like. Its hands were way too big and the end of its fingers were sharp, like cut off with a machine. Its legs were too long for its torso and the knees were pointing at each other in a sharp angle in an extremely unnatural way. The figure’s neck was long and stiff, as if its head and body were connected by one straight line. 

But its face… that's what disturbed me the most. The face looked intensely similar to Anastasia's, in a robot-like way. If you took a glance at it from the distance or just quickly, you'd think it definitely was her. But if you focused on it, you could see how plastic the skin looked. How its nose bumped in a perfectly, odd, round way. Its eyes looked like bulky, cheap glass eyes and its pupils were perfectly round, and stared in such a spine-chilling way. 

And the weirdest part was how the figure was just standing and looking at me, with no expression in its bizarre face. Waiting for me to do something. But I knew the figure wanted, no, was going to hurt me. I felt it in the way the silence hung heavy in the air and its ghostly expression in its uncanny eyes. I remembered the sharp thing in its front pocket and quickly glanced at the figure's jeans, only to see a small knife which almost looked like a dagger. The figure glanced at me again, this time knowingly with what I can only assume was a hint of hostility in its glassy eyes. I knew what was going to happen, though I had an expected hard time admitting it. I couldn't die here. Not now. 

I had no other choice, right? If I ran out onto the road, the best chance was that I would get hit by a car and then I could go to the hospital, if the figure didn't outrun me and kill me before I had the chance to even get close to the pavement. I had no chance to fight it. By now I was exhausted and the thing looked so much more athletic than me. 

But that was a lie. I  _did_ have another option. I didn't want to do it by any means, and I trembled at the thought of it. But I knew I had to. I peeped at the figure again, to find it still standing and not doing anything. I sighed.

I went over to it, being so close to it I could see every creepy detail. I tried not to stare at its face because I knew it was staring back. It wasn't doing anything. I still don't understand why it didn't do anything.

I took all the energy and strength I had in me and without warning I grabbed the knife that was barely in the figure’s pocket and I cut myself. It ached awfully and blood gushed out of my fingers. I winced and tried to grasp the knife’s grip as I quickly as I could while I saw the figure try to lunge at me, but I was quicker. I stabbed it in its chest and took it out and stabbed again and again and again.

That's where my memory gets hazy. I only really remember the feeling of pure rage and… fear. I don't know how much or how long I stabbed it. I don't know what time it was either, I only it was dark. The next thing I remember was sitting in a vast puddle of gooey, hideous dark crimson blood. I heard the sirens of a police and saw a police car along with it. 

But… the figure was nowhere to be found. It disappeared. Like it was never there.

After that I remember being questioned by the police for what felt like a year. I also think I told them about my mom and… I'm living with my cousin now. And then I remembered about you guys and thought you might be able to help. 

ARCHIVIST

Statement ends.

I'm not sure where to start here. Most of the verifiable details are correct. Irina was reportedly last seen at around 7:30pm in her bedroom by her mother on the August 20th. The police were phoned about a “blood-covered teenager on a field in the middle of nowhere” at about 5 in the morning of the 22nd by a trucker known as Trevor Herbert. Officers arrived soon after, finding Irina in the middle of a reportedly “huge puddle of blood- that point you can't even call it a puddle, it was one of the biggest blood pools I've ever seen”, says one of the officers. Though, no body was found and the blood was tested and came back as  _not_ hers. Irina told the officers about her experience and they couldn't charge her with anything. What worried the police was how her mother hadn’t reported her as missing and allegedly “didn't even bat an eye”. Her mother got her custody removed and handed towards Irina’s aunt. She had full custody of her until she turned 18.

I assume Irina must have fallen asleep or have been in and out of consciousness to have disappeared for about two days, as her details of time stay very blurry through out the statement

Now this is where it gets complicated. I'd normally brush this type of situation off as hallucinations (which could have been, Irina has been diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses following this incident), but there still remains a question about the blood and the knife. Obviously, about her appearance too; officers reported her looking extremely disheveled, with cuts and holes in her clothing. They also reported a deep cut which had apparently been made with the same knife Irina was holding on three of her fingers of her right hand. This all matches the descriptions she made in her statement. 

Irina also currently works in the Magnus Institute, as one of my assistants. I have asked her for a follow-up which she declined, explaining that “she doesn't wish to speak about it again” and “that the incident deeply impacted her”. She has also stated that this was the first and last time something of this sort has ever happened and that she has never hallucinated “to that extent”.

End recording.

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End file.
